


This Ain't Love

by Phalene



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Guilt, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 00:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3708853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phalene/pseuds/Phalene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When winter brings a devastating epidemic to Camp Jaha, Monty and Miller are sent to the East Sea in search of a cure. Faced with this daunting task, Monty must find a way to overcome the lingering guilt and trauma of Mount Weather and to resolve his one-sided feelings towards Miller while saving them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Ain't Love

The eight-hour hike finally came to an end as the endless forest broke away to reveal a gleaming metal fortress. It lay half in yet-untouched ruin from the crash landing, and a gleaming wire fence that crackled and buzzed with electricity enclosed the entire camp. Nestled in a lush green valley, its hard lines and mechanical appearance contrasted sharply with the nature that surrounded it. As Monty laid eyes on his new home for the first time, he took in the proud sign inscribed with "CAMP JAHA" and finally felt the lingering wariness and fear lift off his heavy shoulders. It was finally all over.

Monty hugged himself, arms tight and face forlorn, as he settled in a corner. The arrival of the Mount Weather refugees and their rescue team had thrown the camp into a flurry, and he had been forgotten in the chaos of activity. Raven, Abby, and the other injured were whisked away for treatment while those of the 100 whose parents had been fortunate enough to make it to the ground reunited with them.

Harper threw herself into a crying woman's waiting arms, and as tears streaked down her own grimy face, her face shined with more relief and joy than they had for weeks. Miller and a weary, hopeful guardsman hesitantly approached one another before coming together in quiet embrace.

Monty's parents hadn't made it, and tears pricked his eyes as he watched. His chest tightened and dark, ugly resentment festered in his belly. He wanted to be happy for his friends, but in the face of everything that had transpired, he felt lost and adrift. He ached for his dad's firm touch and his mom's soft, lilting voice. He needed to know if he'd done the right thing. He had murdered hundreds, many of them helpless children.

Closing his eyes, he could still see Jasper clutching at Maya's cold, irradiated body and crying into her dark curls. Her eyes were wide open and blank even as her face contorted in pain. Angry crimson burns covered half her light brown skin, oozing with blood and filling the air the stink of death. She had put everything on the line, nearly dying a half dozen times in the process. She saved them all... And he killed her.

Was Jasper right? Could there have been a better way?

He looked down at his hands, scrubbing and clawing at them. They felt so dirty.

He looked up, startled, as soft warmth settled around him. Miller stood there, fingers still grasped in the orange fleece.

"Thanks." Monty wrapped the blanket snug around himself. "What're you doing here? What about your dad?"

"Ha," Miller barked in sharp laughter and rubbed his beard. "I haven't seen him in years... The last time we talked, we were screaming at each other. It's a little weird to go from completely fucked up to being civil and hugging."

"Baby steps, right?" Monty smiled. "You're trying. That's what matters."

"Yeah, I can't believe we're talking again. Then again, I can't believe we made it out."

"We made it..." Monty echoed.

Miller wrinkled his brow as Monty's expression went hollow and cold. He leaned in close and bumped their shoulders together. "Monty, look at me. You did the right thing."

"Did I, though? Hundreds of people died because of what I did."

"You did the right thing," Miller repeated, gaze firm and steady. "Never doubt that."

Monty gave a small, reluctant smile. "Okay."

"Come on," Miller bounced to his feet, "No point in sitting around. Let's explore the camp."

"Yeah, okay."

***

That first night, the darkness didn't seem so stifling as crackling fires cast an amber glow on the young delinquents. Monty and Miller sat side by side, knees touching. The orange fleece blanket was still wrapped around Monty's shoulders, and he took comfort in its warmth and Miller's companionship. Like the others, he nursed a small cup of moonshine, and his mind felt hazy and light. Though the air was filled with murmurs of conversation, a somberness still hung heavy in the air. It seemed impossible that somehow, only a day earlier, they had been trapped in a mountain, fighting desperately for their lives. They dealt with their angst the way that teenagers tend to do, and throughout the night, they took rounds and rounds of shots on behalf of those fallen and those absent.

When morning came again, Monty could not recall much of the night before. He swore as drums pounded in his head and grimaced at the sour aftertaste of alcohol. As he groaned and tried to stretch out, he found himself trapped. He startled awake, eyes widening open, and realized that he wasn't alone. A hard, warm body was pressed against his back, legs tangled together with his and one arm heavy around his waist.

Dark, freckled skin. Masculine hand with callous-worn fingers. Lean and muscled forearm.

Miller.

Monty bit his lip and squirmed. Before he could chicken out, he leaned in slow and steady and pressed his lips lightly onto Miller's. Soft, full, and dry. His beard scratched against his skin, sending tingles down his spine. He watched as Miller breathed in deeply, dark lushes fluttering slightly in the movement. The other boy roused briefly before falling back into deep sleep and pulling him in more snugly.

They had grown close recently, but he had no idea what  _this_  was. There had been moments. Lingering glances and touches. He knew how he felt, but was it reciprocated? He wasn't even sure if Miller was interested in men. He had been nothing but a good friend. He didn't deserve this...

Guilt spread through him. Even as he slipped away, the sight of Miller sprawled across the bunk made him ache with longing.

***

Monty spent the next few days adapting to his new life and steadfastly acting normal around Miller. He found the pace much slower than the 100's camp and the insanity that had been Mount Weather. It threw him off balance at first, and it took time to find his place within the camp. He and Raven had been the go-to people for all problems science or tech related, and the lack of responsibility was disconcerting. He wandered around the camp in search of work, something to distract his mind, and eventually, he found his way to Wick and his little workshop.

Wick easily made space for him and welcomed him with open arms. Under Sinclair's direction, they worked together on camp projects, fixing a radio here and patching the surveillance systems there. They fell into an easy routine, and life almost felt normal again. As the chills of winter began to seep through the cracks and micro fractures of the station's walls and into living spaces, they worked endlessly to patch air leaks and seal off corridors. Still, it would only work so long, and so the engineering team decided to bring secondary power and central heating back online.

That afternoon, with Alpha Station's design specs in hand, Monty headed off to the rehab room of the medical bay. Wick spent most of his spare time there, helping a bedridden Raven through her physical therapy. Between that and all their projects, Monty hardly ever saw Wick resting, but he'd also never seen him happier. As he came up to the room, he paused mid-knock. He felt as though he'd intruded on an intimate moment as he watched from the doorway.

"Arrgh!" Raven yelled in frustration as she stumbled once again.

Wick stood behind her, hands waiting at her sides, ready to catch her at a moment's notice. "You've got this, monkey. You can do this."

"I can do this," she nodded and huffed after him. Her bad leg dragged heavily behind her as she forced herself back up and forward on the parallel bars. She gripped them tightly, and the sheer effort it took for her to stand was apparent.

She managed to take another step forward before her arms gave out. Wick kissed the top of her head almost imperceptibly as she fell easily into his arms. "Good girl." She leaned back into him and turned her chin up to beam at him.

Monty smiled to himself as he turned and slipped away. He and Sinclair could manage without Wick for now.

As he cut back across the camp, a signal sounded and the guards opened the gate. The delegation had finally returned from talks with Tondc. Kane. Bellamy. Miller. Monroe. A blonde man and a raven-haired woman he didn't recognize. He knew not to expect Clarke anymore, but it still felt wrong not to see her among them.

She had evolved from henpecking den mother to a hundred delinquents to a veritable force of nature. He understood that everything that had transgressed had done a number on her psyche and that she needed to take a step back. Still, he constantly worried for her, wondered whether she was safe... whether she was keeping warm. He imagined they all did. Her mother certainly did.

He had never seen a single person devolve so rapidly from relatively composed to completely crazy. She had been horrified when Bellamy dropped the bomb about Clarke's departure and had immediately called for a search party be sent out. When no sign of the lost girl could be found and the search was called off, Abby Griffin fell out of her hospital bed in a fruitless attempt to find her daughter herself. Confined to her bed, she drove herself and her caretakers mad by alternating between periods of eerie calm and unpredictable fury.

Monty shuddered to himself as he recalled her angry screaming. He'd been getting a minor electrical burn treated that day when he overheard Kane and Abby. Even through the closed doors, he could hear them. Kane's rapid, low voice had been muffled, but her voice had been crystal clear. Utterly unconsolable, she demanded Clarke's return and, when denied, something shattered as she sent it crashing to the floor.

That had been before the coughing started. The changing season had brought on sickness, and slowly but surely, coughing and fatigue had begun to spread through the camp. It hit Abby especially hard, and now she spend most of her days weak in bed either coughing or sleeping.

***

"Head's up!" Monty looked up from his notes and automatically stuck out his hands to catch a leather drawstring pouch. It landed with a small thump.

With a rifle propped over one shoulder and pack still strapped to his back, Miller leaned against the workshop doorway. He watched eagerly, bouncing on the balls of his feet, as Monty examined the pouch.

"What's this then?" he asked with a bemused expression.

"It's a surprise."

"A surprise?"

"Yup." Miller bounced on his heels in anticipation as he ushered Monty along, "Go ahead. Open it."

He shook the pouch, and six small balls rolled out onto the center of his palm. Two rich, dusty brown and covered in fine reddish powder. Two milky brown with raised dark brown lace and small white dots. Two completely white. He couldn't believe his eyes. Miller had remembered.

The first time the two had interacted, it had been in Mount Weather, before everything went to shit. At the time, he couldn't always understand Jasper's girl-crazy ways, but he tried to be supportive. It seemed different this time. Jasper and Maya had connected so naturally and so instantaneously that they had become blind to everyone else. One night, after dinner, the two had run off and abandoned Monty once again. Dejected, he'd been pushing around the last of his dinner with a fork when a small slice of chocolate cake slid before him. Miller sat across from him with a wry smile and his own slice of cake.

"You went back," he said, cupping them gently in his hands. "For chocolate?"

"For you. There may have also been a top secret side mission," he confessed, "during which I snuck off to the pantry."

"Should I be hearing this?" Monty snorted.

"Probably not." Miller laughed, embarrassed. "Anyway, I thought you'd like them." He gestured at the chocolates.

"Thank you." Monty said, voice soft and pleased, as he put the sweets back into the pouch and tucked them away for safekeeping.

"Any time." Miller smiled shyly. "That's what friends are for."  

As Monty watched him duck out of the room, those last words hit hard like a punch to the gut. Some things just weren't meant to be.


End file.
